


come hard, stay clean

by dangerousgays



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Facials, Finger Sucking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 19:12:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19340845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangerousgays/pseuds/dangerousgays
Summary: "Frankie," Gerard says, brain buzzing as he tears his eyes from Frank's lips and the smoke curling in the air. "Would you fuck me?""Nah," Frank dismisses easily, and it stings a little because Gerard is a looker, okay? But Frank's not done."If we fucked," he drawls, flicking his joint, "You'd totally be fucking me, man, I love dick.""Huh," Gerard says again, breath hitching. He’s totally getting hard just thinking about it.





	come hard, stay clean

**Author's Note:**

> i have two aus comin out soon see the end 4 more details!! but 4 now enjoy this (as always rest assured it is safe sane n consensual!!)
> 
> let me know what u think yh <33

Gerard is high. 

He's high, and he knows he is because he's still holding the butt end of a spliff, even though he's not sure who gave it to him. It was probably Frank, considering they're alone in Gerard's basement, but it's not entirely impossible it was somebody else. 

But it's okay, that it's almost gone. Because he's high, and he's high with Frankie, who is totally awesome and hot and awesome. 

He's especially hot when he's taking long hits. Frankie does this stupid French inhale, his mouth shaped around the smoke, looking absolutely obscene. 

Gerard knows he's staring at Frank, but he stares at Frank a lot anyways, he thinks. Also he's high. He keeps staring for a little bit longer, watching Frank smoke. 

"Frankie," he says, brain buzzing as he tears his eyes from Frank's lips and the smoke curling in the air to drop his remaining crumbs into the garbage can lying on its side between them. "Would you fuck me?" 

Frank snorts, and then starts to laugh, and then seemingly chokes on his own saliva. Gerard peers over at him, concerned, and when he makes eye contact with Frank, Frank just doubles over again, wheezing. 

"Gee, Gee, Gee Way, Gerard," he giggles. "Dude, what— why would you even—"

Gerard frowns at the carpet. "Ray says he wouldn't do me."

Frank makes a sound like he's hacking up a lung. Thinking about that makes Gerard concerned— can that happen? It probably could to Frank, weak little fucker his immune system is. 

He really hopes Frank isn't going to die on his basement floor, though, because that would be sad, and then Gerard would never get to suck his dick, which would also be sad. 

"It's a nice dick," Gerard says, out loud. He's seen it, once or twice, by accident. 

Frank, apparently, thinks he's talking about his own dick, because he lazily flicks his gaze down at Gerard's open fly— when did that happen? And then back up at Gerard. 

Gerard's breath catches. He's hyperaware of every time his body twitches. 

"I'm sure it's a nice dick," Frank says, shoving himself up by the heels of his hands to lean back against the dirty, second-hand couch next to Gerard's bed. "And Ray's straight, man, you know that." He takes one last hit from the end of the joint hanging loosely between his fingers and blows the smoke at Gerard before tossing it into the wastebasket. 

"All my friends are," Gerard gripes, attempting to regulate his heartbeat (which isn't really possible, considering how much they've smoked already) and also trying not to sound rude because Frank is straight too. Which is rude to him, Gerard thinks, because if Frank wasn't straight he'd totally be down to get it on with Gerard. 

"Gross," Frank says instead. "Imagine that." He stares at the ceiling with a dopey smile on his face. 

"Huh," Gerard says, because that's news to him, Frank being gay or not straight or whatever. Although now that he thinks about it, he does vaguely remember Frank kissing Brandon Dringer during some party sophomore year. "And you still wouldn't fuck me?" 

"Nah," Frank dismisses easily, and it stings a little because Gerard is a looker, okay, he's totally a catch even though he’s a little greasy and someday some guy is gonna see it. 

Some guy won't be Frank, though, which is really sad, because Gerard's totally had a crush on him since, like, seventh grade. 

But Frank's not done. 

"If we fucked," he drawls, flicking his joint while still transfixed on the popcorn ceiling, "You'd totally be fucking me, man, I love dick." 

"Huh," Gerard says again, squeezing his legs together. His body really loves the idea of fucking Frank. "So I'll— what's the word, man, resay? Reask?" His brain isn't working, at all, and the only word he can come up with immediately is fuck. 

Frank shrugs. He's an asshole. 

"Re— reformulate, fuck you," Gerard says, proudly. "I'll reformulate the question. Would you let me fuck you?" 

"Totally," Frank says. "Dude, you're like... hot, and you've got the whole—" he stops gesturing wildly with his hands to grab at Gerard's hair, which is longish and black and really, really hasn't been washed in a while. "The whole— mysterious broody thing going, and I totally want to suck your dick all the time." 

"Not cool.” Gerard’s breath hitches, and the air seems hazier than before. 

Frank looks over at him, all confused with his eyebrows furrowed. "No, sucking your dick would totally be cool. I—"

Gerard makes a quick decision, one his brain isn't really involved in. He shoves a hand onto Frank's crotch, and Frank shuts up fast. 

"Not cool to talk like that, Frankie, and look like that, all the time—" Gerard presses out, pushing his hand down a little more. Frank bucks up into it a tiny bit, like he doesn't really mean to. His eyes slide closed. 

Gerard's not even sure what he wants to do. The room is hazy and he's overwhelmed and nothing is in focus except for Frank, pressing up into his hand next to him. 

"Hot," Gerard says. He's buzzed almost to the point where he has no control over his mouth, and Frank just looks so good, head thrown back, exposing his throat. He deserves to know, Gerard thinks. "So hot, look so hot, uh—"

"No, you," Frank says, opening his eyes, and he starts to crack up but abruptly stops when Gerard covers his mouth with his own. 

Frank makes a startled noise that dissolves into a low, approving hum, vibrating against Gerard's lips. 

It's kind of awkward, because Gerard is all diagonal and straining his side and Frank is still backed up against the couch. But it's worth it, because Frank knows how to kiss, and knows how to kiss well. Also, it's Frankie. Any kiss with Frankie is bound to be a good kiss, Gerard thinks, as he nudges his tongue at the seam between Frank's lips. 

Frank starts rutting up against Gerard, humping him like he can't not, and it's hot, the way he's losing it so fast. It might be all the weed, but that doesn't stop Gerard from feeling proud, like maybe Frankie thinks he's really fucking hot too. 

Frank opens his mouth, and Gerard gladly stops thinking to go all in, licking around and sliding his tongue against Frank's. And fuck, Frank tastes so good, sweet and hot and smoky and he can't get enough. 

Frankie pulls back, panting a little, but Gerard doesn't let him go far, only allows him to catch his breath for a second before putting a hand on the back of his neck. Gerard scratches his fingers through the short hairs there and then pulls him back to plaster his body up against Frank's, warm and solid beneath his own. 

Fuck, Gerard loves this, having Frank so pliant and willing under him, letting him do whatever he wants, letting him take it. It's so hot, the way he automatically complies, already looking so blissed out. 

He tugs Frank in to suck on his bottom lip, and he's momentarily confused when his teeth hit metal before the fog clears a little, and he remembers Frankie's lip ring. Apparently it's sensitive, or something, because when Gerard nibbles on it, Frank breathes out sharply through his nose and moans low in his throat. His breath fans hotly on Gerard's cheek. 

Gerard forgets all about his hand on Frank's crotch, what with how focused he is on how fucking perfect Frank's mouth is and how much he wants to suck his tongue, what the hell. Frank doesn't, though. 

"Fuck," he groans into the kiss. "More, c'mon, Gee, gimme more, your fucking hands, your fingers—" He breaks off with a high-pitched, needy little noise and thrusts his hips up, but Gerard moves his hand away, tracing his fingers teasingly along the outline of Frankie's dick in his boxers instead. He wants to get his mouth on it so bad, wants to feel it stretch his lips and test the weight on his tongue and let it slide into his throat. 

Frank groans again, frustrated and wanting already, and it makes Gerard giggle, high-pitched and nasally. 

"Asshole," Frank grits out, and tries to shove a hand down his own boxers, but there's no way Gerard's having that, so he grabs Frankie's wrist. He's not having that yet, at least, because it might be fun to watch later. 

He's had about enough of the stupid angle and he's starting to get a stitch in his side and the couch smells, so Gerard struggles to his feet, ignoring Frank's stupidly attractive whine, and tugs him by his shirtsleeve towards the bed. He's hard, so fucking hard, and it's all he can do to not just rub one out against Frank's thigh and come in his pants. 

But Frank's tiny and Gerard wants to fuck, so instead of waiting for Frank to scramble onto the bed, he tosses him onto it. 

It turns out to be a good idea, because Frank moans loud when he hits the sheets and Gerard climbs on top of him. He presses down onto Frank, covering him, and every point where there's contact feels like it's on fire. 

"You like that," Gerard says, wonderingly. Frank groans quietly, looks so small beneath him, and Gerard kind of wants to kiss him again. "You're so hot, fuck, Frank, look so good under me." He grinds his hips down once, hard, and feels Frank's solid heat right up against his own dick. 

It’s the weed (it really was good weed— for once, Frank hadn’t been lying) making him bold, and Gerard knows he might regret this later, but for now, all he wants is to come. His brain can’t hold onto much thought right now, let alone worry about anything besides the warm body under him. 

"Fuck Frank," Frank says, nodding. "Good idea." And then, "God, your face—" He reaches up to pet along Gerard's cheekbone and jaw, soft fluttery touches that make Gerard's pulse palpitate. 

His mouth is open, and Gerard can't not stare at his lips, wet and shiny and red and warm. His mouth looks so good, wrapped around a joint or a cig, and Gerard can't help but wonder what it would look like stretched out wide around his fingers, his dick, fuck—

Gerard has to. Whatever part of his brain usually rationalizes his decisions has been fogged over by good weed. 

He shoves two fingers in Frank's mouth. 

Evidently, Frank is okay with this, because he starts to work them with his tongue, making pleased little hums. It's obscene, slick and shiny, and Gerard can literally do nothing but stare as Frank wraps his lips around the digits and absolutely fellates them. 

He presses his fingers in further in a daze, against Frank's tongue. Frank gags a little and lets out a muffled moan around them, buzzing through Gerard's skin. Gerard watches, enraptured, as Frank forces himself down, tries to take Gerard's fingers into his throat. 

Gerard gazes down at him wonderingly. "Look so good with something in your mouth," he says. "Wanna fuck you." 

Spit slides out of Frank's mouth and down his neck as he groans again, but he doesn't seem to give a fuck, just keeps laving his tongue on the pads of Gerard's fingers and making happy little noises. 

It's making Gerard's whole arm go tingly, up to his elbow, the way Frank is sucking on his fingers. He trails them along the roof of Frank's mouth just to watch Frank shudder underneath him and try to follow his hand before pulling them out, slicked up and covered in spit. 

Frank pouts. "Give them back." 

"They're my fucking fingers," Gerard says. "Not yours."

Frank looks like he's about to say something, brows furrowed indignantly, but Gerard doesn't want to hear it. What he does want to hear, though, is Frank moaning low in his throat again, so he presses his hips down at the best angle he can to grind their dicks together. 

It's not the greatest, because he still has his jeans on, but it's something. Frank humors him with a pleased grumbling sound from deep within his chest as he tries to get more. 

Gerard has had enough with grinding, though (weed joke!!!!!! his brain screams, and he wants to laugh but he doesn't). He's wanted one thing for years— Frank's dick in his mouth. He is a whore, thank you very much, and he wants to swallow Frank's cock right fucking now. 

"Take your pants off," he orders. 

"You're sitting on my dick," Frank says, very seriously, before his stoic face breaks and he's cracking up again. 

"Wh— no!" Gerard says. "I am not— you can totally get them off, dipshit."

"Get off my fucking dick, and then maybe," Frank says. "And you're the dipshit here." 

Gerard really doesn't want to, but he obliges, sliding off Frank's hips and watching closely as he pulls off his boxers. 

"You're a creep," Frank accuses, stressing the last word as he throws his boxers to the floor. "You're lucky you're hot." Frank is hard already, flushed and leaking, and it actually makes Gerard’s mouth water. He wonders when he became such a slut, but he doesn’t give himself much time to dwell on it. Weed makes him twitchy, and all of his muscles are screaming gogogo!!!!!!!!

He slips off the bed and struggles to his feet, stumbling a little, to tug off his own jeans. He falls on his ass trying, and Frank cracks up. Gerard throws his pants at him as soon as he finally gets them off, but he misses by a mile and they slide between the bed and the wall. 

"I'm going to suck your dick now," Gerard announces, sidling closer to where Frank is on the bed across the carpet. He’s so excited, god, he’s been waiting for this for so long, and the weed is making everything ten times more. “Fuck, ‘m horny." He tugs Frank to the edge of the bed by his ankles and shoves his mouth over the head of Frankie's dick without any more preamble.

Frank immediately starts to groan, and he looks so good, so ruined already, from Gerard’s spot on the floor between his legs. Gerard can’t help his eyes from sliding closed as he starts to suck— jesus fuck, this is heaven, on his knees. He can’t really control himself— a good spliff completely ruins his fine motor skills— so it’s messy, spit dribbling out of his mouth as he mouths at the tip and then slides down as far as he can to lick along the bottom. 

Almost immediately, with the weight of cock on his tongue, his brain starts to switch gears. He’s never been one to give up control, to let someone else do the fucking or submit, but the weed must be messing with him. All he wants to do is make Frank feel good, make him come, preferably down Gerard’s throat or all over his face. 

Frank doesn’t seem to mind the change in mentality— in fact, he won’t shut the fuck up above Gerard, and when Gerard pulls back again to swirl his tongue, he shoves two hands in his hair and forces him back down. 

He keeps talking the whole time, a steady stream of absolute filth that just serves to make Gerard even fucking hornier. “God, jesus— oh fuck, Gee, thought you were supposed to be fucking me— uh, fuck, more, c’mon—”

Gerard moans around the dick in his throat, and it sounds whorish even to him. His eyes, though closed, are starting to tear up with how Frank is holding him by his hair, but it’s so good, he’s such a slut, and he just wants more. 

Gerard needs to touch, wants to feel Frank up, so he reaches upwards and grabs hard onto Frankie’s thighs and scratches down along them desperately. He knows his blunt nails will probably leave marks, red lines as a reminder tomorrow. 

Frank finally reads the room and starts to fuck Gerard’s mouth, and the space fills with sloppy sucking noises, wet and loud. Gerard moans gratefully, god, that’s just what he wants, Frank’s dick sliding in and out, past his lips against his tongue. 

He’s leaking, and Gerard tongues his slit as best he can, relishing the rush of precome against his tongue every time he pushes. He forces his jaw as wide as it’ll go, tries to relax his throat as much as he can. 

“God, your mouth,” Frank sounds breathless, and he thrusts deeper into Gerard’s throat. “So good, so— uh, fuck, Gee, take it so good—” 

It’s so cliche and porno-esque that Gerard almost wants to laugh, but he’s fucked up and high, and coming out of Frank’s mouth it’s nothing but hot hot hot. 

Gerard finally opens his eyes again. He’s aching in his own boxers, and he wants to touch, god, he wants to come with Frank’s dick down his throat. He’s been so good, such a good boy, but he wants to hear it from Frank, hear him tell Gerard to jerk off for him. 

Frank yanks on his hair, forcing him to look up and shoving his dick further into Gerard’s mouth as he does. “Go on, baby,” he says, chewing on his lip ring. “Touch yourself, you’re so hot, fuckin’— uh, c’mon, sweetheart, please.” 

Gerard really, really doesn’t need any more encouragement. But when he goes to shove a hand down his pants, Frank tugs on his hair again. “No,” he says, almost a growl. “Not that. Wanna see you hump your hand ‘n fuck yourself, come in your pants, god—”

Usually, Gerard thinks, he would not be down for that. But right now, his thoughts feel like fog, swirling hazy and thick, and all he wants to do is whatever Frank asks. He shoves a hand over his own dick and starts to rut up into it, friction feeling like heaven on earth. 

Frank starts to thrust again, and Gerard can tell Frank’s watching, staring as he humps into his own hand. He moans around the cock in his mouth, and he can feel it stretching his lips wide, filling him up.

“So good,” Frank says again. “Look so good with a cock in your mouth, baby, look like you were born to suck dick—” he cuts himself off with a high-pitched, breathy noise when Gerard forces himself to take Frank into his throat for a second, gagging around his length. 

It just makes him even harder, thinking about what he must look like, a mess on the floor between Frank’s legs, spit all around his mouth and dripping down his face. 

“Jesus, jesus fuck, Gee,” Frank says, wonderingly. His fingers flex unconsciously in Gerard’s hair. “You’re a whore.”

He doesn’t say it aggressively, just observationally, and it sends a rush of heat through Gerard’s body and straight to his dick that definitely isn’t the drugs (or maybe not just the drugs). He’s never really appreciated this before, being on his knees and completely powerless, but he’ll think about how disturbingly hot it gets him when he’s sober. For now, he just wants to keep rutting into his own hand, fast and rough like a fucking animal in heat. 

Gerard’s close. He can feel it building in the pit of his stomach, just from sucking dick and thrusting into his own hand. He squeezes his own cock through his boxers, but he wants— he wants to come when Frankie says, wants to be so good, wants to listen to him. He looks up with what he hopes are pleading eyes, meets Frankie’s glazed, red, hungry gaze. 

“Fuck,” Frank groans, pushing his dick into Gerard’s mouth again. “You are so pretty, Gee, god, c’mon. Come for me, please? Please, Gee, please—” and the knowledge that Frank wants to see him, wants to watch as he falls apart underneath him, is all it really takes. Gerard explodes in his pants, and he can feel the wet patch spread as he keeps shoving at his dick with his hand. 

Frank’s fingers twitch where they’re laced in Gerard’s hair, and his hips still. Gerard can tell Frank’s watching, staring intently, so he starts to suck again as he milks his own cock for all it’s worth, feeling it twitch in his pants as he overstimulates it. He keeps a hand pressed to himself as he hollows out his cheeks and bobs his head, opens his mouth as wide as he can around the cock in his mouth. He wants Frank to come all over him, in his mouth and on his face, god, anywhere Frank’ll give it to him. 

He brings a hand up to trace around Frank’s entrance, and it undoes him. He starts to shake above Gerard, his hole twitching when Gerard presses the pad of his finger down harder. 

“Gonna,” Frank starts, hips pressing up in a stuttering roll. “Gonna come, gonna fill up your mouth, so good, take it, baby—” and then he does. He comes hard, hitting the back of Gerard’s throat and making him gag. 

Gerard pulls his hand away and watches, enraptured. He almost forgets that there’s a dick coming down his throat. He’s so preoccupied by the way Frankie looks, head thrown back and mouth wide open and stomach muscles bunched up, just as slutty and ruined as Gerard feels. He pulls off just in time to wrap a hand around Frankie’s dick and jack him off, the last few spurts of cum striping his face. 

Gerard groans, keeps pulling on Frank’s dick absently as he relishes the feeling of come on his face, the feel of it on his tongue. God, he missed this, loves Frankie for letting him do it. 

“Fuck, Gee, god, stop,” Frank hisses, reaching down to wrap a hand around Gerard’s wrist and pulling it off of his dick. He fixates on Gerard’s fingers, dripping with his come, like he wants to suck on them again just for a second before letting go. 

“You’re hot,” Frank says, happily. He smiles, pleased and fucked-out, at the ceiling. “I like your hands.” And then, “I thought you were gonna fuck me.” 

“Huh,” Gerard says. His knees are starting to burn on the carpet. “You never said anything. And don’t worry, I will next time.” When he glances up at Frank, Frank looks spacey. 

“Neither did you,” Frank points out. “And you’d better. I want your dick in my ass.” He tugs at Gerard’s hair insistently until Gerard scrambles up to flop onto the bed. His dirty boxers are uncomfortable, starting to dry sticky and tacky, so he peels them off and throws them to the floor. 

“You’re naked,” Frank observes thoughtfully. He reaches out to smear the cum on Gerard’s face around. He wrinkles his nose. “Gross.” 

Gerard hums. “It wasn’t when you were doing it.”

Frank doesn’t answer. He just frowns at Gerard before feeling around on the bed and leaning on his stomach over to the edge to search the floor for something. Finally, he pops back up, hair sticking up wildly. He holds up half a small blunt proudly. “More weed!” 

Gerard reaches blindly for his lighter on his bedside table and lights it up for Frank. Frank breathes in deeply, but instead of inhaling, he throws himself at Gerard and forces his mouth over Gerard’s, shotgunning the smoke. 

Gerard inhales, tasting Frank through the weed, and flops backwards as Frank pulls away, savoring the quick buzz that runs through his tired body. 

“I’m goin’ to bed,” Frank says. He stubs out the cherry on the metal headboard and tosses it in the general direction of the trashcan, and then pulls Gerard in and tangles their legs together. 

It’s nice, Gerard thinks. And maybe in the morning, when they’re sober, they’ll talk it out— but for now, it’s good enough, to lay here with Frank next to him. 

He falls asleep with come on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> hullo !!! the vamp au i swear 2 god i will finish @ some point. im also writing a chopped au and theyre both set 2 b actual stories, not just pwp!!
> 
> u know the drill here! let me know if theres anything i missed here or if theres somethin u want me 2 write. ive been lackin 4 inspiration lately. <333


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